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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23962654">Bounty Hunter or...Recruiter?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley'>foxymoley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Men of Letters, Stanford Chapter, Witches, very divergent!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:08:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23962654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester smirked back at Cas from a sea of mugshots and surveillance stills, his brother, Sam, looking decidedly more sheepish beside him. </p><p>The handsome siblings were easy to track but much harder to catch, until they make the mistake of...stealing a book?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bounty Hunter or...Recruiter?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/gifts">MalMuses</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Birthday Mal! Have some silliness and some artiness!</p><p>I hope you can make the best of your bday plans changing and that you get lots of love and pressies and stuff. </p><p>♥ ♥ ♥</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Anyone wandering around a graveyard at night might have been surprised to find a man digging in a suit but, as this was Salem, Eric just tipped his hat politely and went home. At 63, he really didn't get paid enough to confront someone half his age over some light grave-robbing. It's not like any of these old plots had anything left in 'em so he rang <em> the </em> Number and left <em> the </em> Message and went to bed. </p><p>The generic ringtone was loud in the open space and the suited figure paused, wiped his brow and answered. </p><p>"Novak. Yes…yes, I'm digging at Old Burying Point, yes, Salem…the caretaker? I didn't want to wake him…The Macleod Diaries. Ref 486b. Copy." Dr Castiel Novak ThD rolled his eyes as he hung up, and wiped the cooling sweat off his forehead. After a bone popping stretch—he was thankful it would be a chest and not a casket, six foot deep was one thing but six foot long as well? Back breaking. He would have to send Ro a fruit basket—Cas continued to dig, approximating another foot or so when his phone rang again. He snapped it open with a huff. </p><p>"Yes? What now? Oh, my apologies, Baum. How can I help?" The night air was still as he listened. "Stanford. The Monstrosity of Man: An Anthology of Myths, their Truths, and how to Identify Beasts of Legend has been stolen. From a Men of Letters Library. <em> How? </em>Nevermind. Send the details, I'll leave ASAP. Thank you. Goodbye." He hung up more thoughtfully this time, tapping the cell against his chin. In terms of security, the University library at Stanford was in a league of its own as some of the rarest books and artifacts were stored there. Of course, the more magical items were housed in the Men of Letters stores that were very carefully hidden within, yet an old book on cryptids was missing. </p><p>Slipping his phone away, he sighed and continued to dig. He should be through to the 'grave' proper soon and within it, hopefully, would be the journal's of the most powerful (yet secretive) witch in West European history. Castiel's fingers twitched at the possibility of holding them, reading through them carefully before he had to hand them over to a MoL curator. He hoped the cogs of bureaucracy were slow enough that he wouldn't have to relinquish them the second he got to Stanford. </p><p>
  <em> THUNK  </em>
</p><p>He tapped the shovel against the wood—a small smile the only outward sign of his excitement—and carefully dug around the edges. He worked at it until he could pull the top free, revealing a cloth wrapped bundle. The tilt of his lips morphed into a full on grin as he gently pulled away the fabric to reveal leather bound tomes and he had to stifle an actual giggle as he ran a gentle finger over the large 'R' embossed on the cover. </p><p>The second Cas got to the hotel room, he stripped out of the suit he kinda liked but only wore for meeting townsfolk for research, and donned his Artifact Hunter Chic—at least, that's what his boss playfully called his henley, jeans and leather jacket combo—and went out to grab dinner to bring back. </p><p>A few hours later found him surrounded by takeout cartons and notepads as he carefully turned through the pages of the diary with gloved hands. The books would probably undergo rigorous maintenance, testing and cataloguing before he might be allowed to see them again so he kept reading, taking pictures and making notes in case the MoL at Stanford seized them in the morning. </p><p>Castiel only managed a couple of hours sleep before sliding on his suit and trenchcoat to meet with the Men of Letters: Stanford Chapter, full curse box under his arm. </p><p>"I'm sorry but are you saying he walked in here, <em> winked </em> at you and you let him into the archive?" Cas shook his head at the older woman behind the desk. </p><p>She bristled under Cas' glare. "He had the appropriate I.D and a signed form from one of our anthropology professors. The flirting was just a bonus." She smiled coldly. "It doesn't hurt to have some manners, Dr. Novak."</p><p>Cas watched her turn away with a huff, and ran his hand through his hair. He opened the requisition book and ran his finger down the page to find 'Dr. Henry Jones.' Really? He sighed. <em> Winchester. </em> The only person on Earth who would use such an obvious pseudonym to steal a book that belonged in a museum. His audacity clearly knew no bounds. The MoL director would be thrilled he was on the Winchester trail again, she had been on him to recruit the brothers for months now but it wasn't as simple as that. Castiel huffed, rubbed his face then slammed the ledger shut, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in seeing the librarian jump. </p><p>After a couple of hours of questioning the library staff, (unfortunately) logging the diaries with the curator as expected, and obtaining a tracking charm, Cas was back in his motel room standing half dressed and armed with a red marker in front of his wall of research. Well, <em> mirror </em> of research. It may be a cliche but it worked so who was he to argue with a staple of film and television thrillers?  </p><p>
  <a href="https://ibb.co/c6yyDMF">  </a>
</p><p>Cas frowned as Dean Winchester smirked back at him from a sea of mugshots and surveillance stills, his brother, Sam, looking decidedly more sheepish beside him. The handsome siblings were easy to track but much harder to catch and Castiel hoped they were still nearby. The Men of Letters knew they were unlicensed hunters but Cas was starting to get the impression that the Winchester's <em> didn't. </em>They weren't 'official' and they had no digital legacy trail before 1980 so they must be one of the few civilians that had encountered a monster and lived. </p><p>It was rare and, usually, survivors were scooped up to be <em> brainwashed </em> under the guise of extensive therapy or went quietly mad and lived out their days in a MoL facility. Castiel was fascinated by the two young men that had obviously been through hell but came out the other side smirking. </p><p>They were famous in the community and it was only their—apparently staunch—paranoia that kept them unknowingly out of MoL hands. If they were so successful alone, he couldn't imagine the hunting powerhouse they could be if they didn't have to <em> steal </em> and, in Dean's case, scratch-build their resources. </p><p>Castiel's research had uncovered why they were in town. A group of teenagers had been missing for a few days, then were found sans hearts. At first glance it seemed like a werewolf or two but the police later discovered one of the hearts in a wooded area nearby. Werewolves were picky about what bits they ate and never would have just dropped an entire heart. The Winchester's must have assumed that this was a new (or very old) kind of monster, thus the grand theft biblio. Cas, however, now had the benefit of the McLoed diaries and knew it had to be a coven. At least six witches using blood magic was definitely not a small problem. Shit. He had to find them before Dean and Sam did, so he contacted the agent assigned to this case, to receive the current file. As he suspected, the notes covered werewolves first, only to be dismissed in favour of potential witches then, finally, provided a narrow set of probable coordinates. Cas called in requesting backup, more inclined to speed up the process now that it could be a rescue mission. </p><p>Crunching sounds in the woods at night were never a good thing and Castiel stayed low to the ground, his custom blade in hand, listening intently. He'd let his colleagues know the coordinates, and he assumed help was on the way but he was very aware of how time was of the essence. Based on his research, the coven needed a heart each for a number of spells and this seemed to be a particularly large group, maybe even a dozen members. They would probably take anyone that got too close and the hearts of a couple of strong, young hunters would kill two birds with one stone. He shuddered. Witches were disgusting nowadays. </p><p>A light appeared ahead, flickering orange. Dark shapes passed in front of it rhythmically, and as he moved closer he saw a circle of figures moving around the perimeter of a pyre, holding hands and stepping in time to a silent beat. </p><p>Castiel was relying on the element of surprise and getting to the Winchester's quickly so he crept around the edge of the shadows until he spotted a figure tied to a tree. The sharp profile was unmistakably Dean's and Cas could see the firelight glinting off the horned amulet that always hung around his neck. He slipped up behind him and whispered in his ear as he started to work on the rope. </p><p>"Dean. My name is Castiel. I'm here to rescue you."</p><p>Dean coughed a laugh through bloody spittle. </p><p>"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?" Dean snorted, clearly delirious. Castiel managed to loosen the knots but Dean merely slumped to the side, his head lolling. </p><p>"Shit," Cas swore. Dean wasn't going to be any help and now that he could see better, he spotted a prone, possibly dead, man lying a few feet away. "Shit." </p><p>Castiel scanned the area lit by the pyre, 13 figures and what looked like 10 or so crows. Why did it have to be crows? Wicked smart and loyal to a fault, they would undoubtedly defend their human companions. </p><p>Horribly outnumbered, Cas grabbed Dean and hoisted him over his shoulder. Despite stumbling under the weight, they made it to the edge of the clearing, and further to the open space beyond the wood. Once Dean was safely, but not necessarily gently, dumped in a hedgerow, Cas went back for Sam. However, it stupidly hadn't occurred to him that six and a half feet of muscle would be so damn heavy. With no choice, Cas grabbed Sam by the ankles and dragged him through the leaf litter. He prayed every step of the way that the witches wouldn't immediately notice their victims missing. </p><p>As he puffed, a loud and manic cawing sounded behind him and he braced himself for attack from above, wing beats and corvid screams surrounded him and he dropped Sam to protect his own head. A gunshot startled both him and the birds, the latter squawking indignantly and scattering into the darkness. Cas grabbed Sam's legs and kept dragging, a blur of brown leather and denim flew past him and suddenly Sam's weight lifted. Dean had him by the shoulders and they ran from the woods. </p><p>Several minutes later a team of licensed hunters ran past them in full MoL combat gear as Castiel and Dean lay panting at the edge of the forest. A medic approached and Dean waved them off, confused and annoyed that they had missed Sam in the shadows. </p><p>"Him first," he said gruffly and Cas was surprised at how low Dean's voice was. "Now, who the hell are you?" </p><p>"My name is Castiel."</p><p>"Yeah, you said that. What are you?" He gestured around at the personnel moving around by flashlight. "What is all this?" </p><p>Castiel had no idea where to start and thankfully was interrupted by Sam sitting up abruptly. </p><p>"Whoa, big guy. Lie back," the medic crooned and attempted to push Sam back. "I just gave you some hartshorn and you might feel a bit weird for a moment." </p><p>Sam dropped back and Dean relaxed minutely. Castiel could see he didn't have his full attention, despite the request for information so he merely shrugged and promised to explain when Sam was, literally and figuratively, out of the woods. </p><p>
  <a href="https://ibb.co/gWfLC6N">
    
  </a>
</p><p>Dean had, of course, accompanied Sam in the back of the private ambulance and Castiel had followed closely behind in their beast of a car. The convoy ended at a large building on the outskirts of Stanford University, and Cas hurried to follow the Winchester's, accompanied by MoL EMT's, into the infirmary. </p><p>Thanks to various magical artifacts, arcane knowledge, and some modern machinery, Sam and Dean were attended to and soon deemed fit for release into Castiel's capable hands. At that, Dean had smirked, given Cas a once over, and winked. Obviously, Dean's default mode was Flirt™ but he ignored the fluttering feeling and hideous blush he was no doubt sporting, and led them to a suite set aside for important visitors. </p><p>"There  is a shower in each room and I recovered your bags, your car is safe in our secure lot," Cas stuttered awkwardly when Dean frowned at that. "Oh, and please don't leave these rooms before I've had a chance to explain a few things. You are perfectly safe here."</p><p>"Nah, Cas, you're not going anywhere until you tell us where the hell we are." Dean crossed his arms and pouted. Cas imagined he thought it was intimidating but it just came off as adorably bratty. </p><p>"Well, Sam is asleep so I suggest we have a quiet, little chat?" </p><p>Cas led him to the shared lounge space and started on filling the state of the art percolator. Dean stayed standing, flighty almost, waiting for Cas to begin. </p><p>Coffees in hand, Cas cleared his throat…</p><p>...Dean's mouth hung open. He was still grossly attractive and Cas sighed internally before mentally slapping himself to listen. </p><p>"You belong to a secret society who are employed…and <em> paid… </em> to hunt…and.. And <em> research </em> monsters?" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "How long? I mean, when did this society start?" </p><p>Cas looked away and cleared his throat. "Have you heard of van Helsing?" He risked a glance to find Dean staring at him, mouth open again. "Well, his great grandmother started it." </p><p>"Early 1800's then?" Dean crossed his arms and Cas was quietly pleased at Dean's historical knowledge. "So nearly 200 years." Dean was starting to look pissed. "You mean, my mom <em> died </em> and my dad went completely <em> batshit </em>and the 'experts' did nothing? Is that what you're telling me?" </p><p>Castiel was forced back a step by Dean's vitriol, he had no idea about their past or his parents and as far as he knew, the Winchester's grew up in a boys' home. Cas knew there was trauma there and that it was probably caused by the supernatural but he had no idea it had robbed them of their childhood so completely. </p><p>"I'm so sorry, I don't know anything about that. I…I can find out? Give me some time in the archives, get some rest. Please." Cas raised his hands, pleading and Dean mirrored him in supplication. </p><p>"Fine." And with that one word, Dean disappeared back to Sam. </p><p>Cas was filthy. Covered head to toe in dust and cobwebs. He'd had to search through the old analogue files, not because the information he needed was old, but because it was classified and he had to call in a favor to even get into the right room. The file was tucked under his arm as he carried a tray of bacon, eggs and toast to Sam and Dean's suite. He kicked the door gently in lieu of a knock and Sam answered. Confused for a second, then his eyes lit up when he saw the eggwhite omelette Cas had brought. </p><p>Cas shuffled in and carefully placed the tray on the coffee table. "Is Dean awake yet?" His question was answered when Dean yanked his bedroom door open, revealing that he'd obviously just come out of the shower. The towel around his waist was knotted loosely and Cas found his fingers twitching, trying to access a locked part of his brain that might be telekinetic. Alas, no undiscovered ability manifested and he made do with hope instead. Dean cleared his throat and Cas' eyes shot up, a blush burning quickly across his face as he took in Dean's knowing smirk. </p><p>"Hey, Cas. The smell of bacon summoned me but lemme just put something on. Wouldn't want you to get distracted." Dean disappeared for a moment, and returned in ripped jeans and a tight band tee. If he was being totally honest with himself, Cas wasn't entirely sure which outfit was more enticing. </p><p>Dean clapped his hands together and seated himself in front of the bacon. "Hit me."</p><p>Cas took a deep breath and flipped open the file. </p><p>"Alright. As you probably already know, your grandfather, Henry Winchester went missing when your father was a child. What you <em>don't</em> seem to know is that Henry was a Man of Letters<em>.</em>" He glanced at the brothers. Dean had stopped chewing and Sam stared at him. "Not only that but your mother was <em>the</em> Mary Campbell. If I were to mention her name out there…" he jerked his head toward the door "...they would have a field day around the water cooler. Her father, Samuel—your namesake, Sam—Campbell was a hunter and Deanna—your…" Cas glanced at Dean, who silenced him with a glare. "...nevermind— …um…was a witch." Cas risked another look. Both men's mouths hung open and they didn't seem ready to comment so he plowed on. "Deanna was a natural born witch so none of the 'gross stuff'." He air quoted, which seemed to bring Dean out of his stupor just to snigger. "And she helped Samuel on a hunt. The reason you have no further information about the Campbell side is because Samuel died age 179 and Deanna was 340 years old. We assume she was keeping them both alive beyond their natural lifespan, therefore the records go back a bit further than our means and, unfortunately, we can only guess why she stopped." Cas paused, letting the brothers think. Dean's food had gone cold and Sam's was untouched. The silence stretched uncomfortably until Dean spoke. </p><p>"What happened to Henry?" </p><p>"We don't know but there was a massive power surge in his headquarters the day he disappeared. Some say demons took him, others suggest time travel." He smiled sympathetically. "Unless he turns up, I don't think we will really ever know for sure. I'm sorry."</p><p>They shared a silent conversation that Cas watched with interest. He understood why they made such a great hunting team, communicating just with looks. </p><p>Sam broke the silence. "Did dad know about any of this?" </p><p>"Ah, not as far as I can tell. Millie Winchester had no idea either, I'm sorry to say they both may have believed he just left. The Campbell file looks like it was classified because Mary didn't want to be a hunter anymore. She did everything she could to sever ties with the Men of Letters. Our records end at the beginning of 1978."  </p><p>Dean ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the damp strands. </p><p>"Jesus, if only they had all just been fucking honest with each other. Dad wouldn't have lived his life thinking Henry had run out on them, mom would have had a better chance against that evil bastard…"</p><p>Sam interrupted Dean's tirade to explain. "The 'evil bastard' is the thing that killed our mom. He was coming for me. I was just a baby and…and mom fought him and lost. We lost so much that night, the house, mom, even dad. He was never the same. We hunted for it. Went town to town chasing leads, hunting things…" He blew out a laugh, "...the family business, I guess." Sam hung his head, chewing a nail, his shoulders tight. When he spoke again his face was carefully blank. </p><p>"Wait, was finding us just a coincidence or what?" Sam asked despite Cas foolishly hoping neither of them would. </p><p>"If you hadn't stolen that book, I might not have known you were in trouble." Cas regretted his word choice when Dean bristled. </p><p>"We were doing okay." Dean pouted. </p><p>The circle of blood witches and general unconsciousness would beg to differ but Cas understood Dean's whole world perspective was about to change so he let it—and the theft—go...for now. </p><p>"We—or rather, I—have a casefile on you both." When the brothers had the gall to look annoyed he raised his voice. "You've been stealing books and artifacts from countless Men of Letters' premises across the States for years! What did you expect? If my superiors knew you were here, they'd demote me!" Cas took a deep breath. Logically, he knew it wasn't their fault that these items were protected and that it was his job to track them down but he was frustrated, tired and hadn't gotten laid in way too long to have a Dean Winchester in his presence so he was more blunt than he might normally be. </p><p>"Officially, you're designated as Rogue Hunters. Vigilantes running around killing willy nilly, no discretion, no…subtlety!" </p><p>Dean stood up, his chair shooting out behind him. "Now wait a goddamn minute! We've been busting our asses, researching, hunting, saving lives, the whole goddamn deal and you're gonna lecture us? Where were you 25 years ago when mom died? Where were you ten years ago when that damn rawhead had me laid up for months? Huh?" Dean advanced with each point, fire in his eyes, louder with each example and Cas stepped back. "Where were you three years ago when Sam…when Sammy…" his voice cracked, "...nearly died. He was <em> this, </em>" Dean raised his hand, his forefinger and thumb nearly together, "close to biting it and where were you?" </p><p>Dean had backed Cas into a wall by this point, chest heaving, furious righteousness pouring off him and Cas was defenseless against it. He wanted to point out that he had tried to find them, had tried to understand why they did what they did but had failed. He needed to remind them that it was their own mother that had cut them off from the protection they would no doubt have needed being Winchester/Campbell progeny but words failed him when Dean's eyes shot down to Cas'' mouth as he licked his lips. </p><p>The seconds may have turned to a full minute but Sam coughing awkwardly interrupted the strange, tense moment and Dean seemed to realise how close he'd gotten and stepped back. </p><p>Dean cleared his throat, suddenly shy, and Castiel tried not to find him endearing after Dead had just given him a verbal lashing. </p><p>"Forgive Dean. He has had to make do with very little, dragged himself—and me—up, so he deserves to be pissed." Sam hadn't raised his voice but Cas was taken aback by his sincerity. The brothers obviously cared deeply for each other and were understandably defensive. </p><p>"Of course, that's fine, Dean. I understand your feelings on this matter and I can only apologise for the failings of my agency. May I suggest we move on for now? You can keep the file and anything else I find. Would you like a tour? I've cleared it with Director Baum. You can meet her too," Cas babbled. </p><p>Dean and Sam shared a look and seemed to come to a mutual decision to accompany Cas, so he pulled the door open and led them out. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The place was huge, certainly too big for a short tour so he made a quick calculation of which aspects of the facility would appeal to each brother. The library, of course. The R&amp;D lab, definitely. Maybe some of the recreational amenities. They were closest to the largest cafeterias so they started there. Dean's eyes went wide and Sam had to elbow him harshly to regain his attention from the extensive lunch buffet being laid out. </p><p>"This, of course, is provided for the agents, researchers and key workers. An assortment three times a day and snacks throughout," Cas declared proudly. His living expenses, and general health, were vastly subsidised, and improved, by these MoL canteens across the country. He led them down a large, wood clad and arched hallway. Cas thought he caught Dean looking a little uncomfortable, tugging at his flannel awkwardly as he looked around the opulent building. Dean, in turn, caught Cas staring at him and, in a complete 180, shot him a flirty wink. Cas felt his face heat and he cleared his throat. He knew Dean used his charms to get people on their back foot, and now he understood how they managed to infiltrate so many private spaces undetected. He resolved himself to ignore the flirtations and moved on. </p><p>"This is the dance hall. Of course, it doesn't get used as much for dancing as it used to but hoops and nets can be lowered for various sporting activities." Another short walk down an identical hallway and he gestured, "the gym is down there, it's well appointed and includes a small pool."</p><p>"And this is the library." He pulled open a pair of large ornate doors and ushered the brothers in. They stood on a gallery level overlooking a vast room well lit by the late morning sun pouring in through large windows. The room looked endless, with Escher like balconies, staircases and shelves stretching into the distance. "The oldest part of the facility, it houses many priceless artifacts and unique books." He turned on Dean and growled, "don't you dare." </p><p>Dean must have seen the playful glint in his eye because he looked surprised at first then bit his lip, eyes flicking over Cas' face, showing the hint of a dirty smirk. Yeah, two can play at that game, Mr. Winchester. </p><p>"Anyway…you were saying?" Sam cut in. </p><p>"Yes, the oldest part. Um…again, completely at the agents and researchers' disposal." Cas was happy to note the eager look on Sam's face as they idly watched the various Men and Women of Letters milling around. </p><p>"What about computers, networking…wi-fi…?" Sam asked hopefully. </p><p>"We have the usual internet capabilities and a dedicated network. Bradbury, Head of Information Technology, can brief you on all that. She works closely with Gilda on some kind of magically enhanced server…thing…? Anyway, I'm definitely not the one to ask about that." Cas finished lamely with a shrug." I do know that," he pulled up his sleeve to reveal a small tattoo on his wrist—a circle with a line through it—"this symbol allows me to access the internet on my phone or laptop anywhere in the United States."</p><p>
  <a href="https://ibb.co/zRfC0pV">  </a>
</p><p>"You're a hot spot!" Sam's eyes were wide and he had the air of an excitable retriever. "That's <em> very </em> cool." </p><p>"Damn right, he's a hot spot," Dean muttered. </p><p>Cas ducked his head, chuckling, and led them down a spiral staircase to the main floor of the library. "Here is our map table. The lights represent sightings and other useful things." He tapped on a nearby display and several bulbs flashed across the states. "These are cases where the assigned agents found the monster had already been dealt with. Usually accompanied by some form of grand larceny and fraud. Of course, I'm sure you wouldn't have any idea what happened there, would you?" He raised an eyebrow and the Winchester's both looked away and shuffled their feet like naughty schoolboys. Castiel shook his head, tapped again and the lights changed back. "The cases are assigned to an appropriate researcher and a hunter team." </p><p>They strolled past people hard at work, typing furiously and scurrying around gathering beautiful leather bound tomes carefully on carts. Cas was happy to see that Sam was running his fingers along rows of books, gawping at banks of computer screens and smiling warmly at everyone they passed. </p><p>"Yeah, yeah, Sammy. It ain't Wonka's factory, come on." Dean grabbed him by the arm to speed him up. </p><p>"It's Sam and this is amazing." He reluctantly followed and the three men finally made it to the end of the huge space. After a brief walk through open air, across a beautifully maintained quad, Cas brought them to a much more modern, but no less impressive, building. He swiped a key card and with a beep the doors whooshed open. </p><p>"This is our Research and Development department. There are several levels of clearance in here as some engineers are still students under mentorship programs. Until they graduate they believe they are helping design ordinary military gear and survival equipment." Cas led them to another secure door and swiped his card. "This is the cryptoid section. Veteran engineers, fey, and witches, etc. work together to create our most advanced specialist equipment and weaponry." </p><p>The room was bright and well ventilated, filled with workbenches and tool stations. There was a pleasant humming noise overriding the general bustle and Sam went for the source, Cas followed to explain the less mundane elements of the department, introducing him to Gilda, the head of Magical Artifacts. Again, Sam seemed excited and asked her many insightful questions about the array of bottles, books, and symbols. Castiel wondered if Sam's grandmother's innate abilities had been passed down and hoped they could explore that further. </p><p>Loud laughter from behind him drew his attention back to Dean, who had pulled up a chair and made himself at home next to Bobby, an intelligent and resourceful yet grizzled ex-hunter, serving out his time until retirement as a highly valued member of the R&amp;D team. Dean was pointing at Bobby's project—a new type of ghost dispeller, if Cas recalled correctly—asking complicated sounding questions and even making a few suggestions that Bobby considered with a small, thoughtful nod. Cas smiled to himself, happy that brothers seemed to like it here…so far. </p><p>He eventually dragged the brothers away to continue the tour through the main University grounds, passing by a food truck, where—with a subtle flash of his MoL card—they received free burritos before meeting up with the director in her office. </p><p>The office waiting room was sparse, utilitarian almost and Castiel respected her for that. He could see that Dean and Sam may have too as they stopped making incomprehensible jokes about Agent Zed and the Syndicate and, instead asked about the mysterious 'Baum'. </p><p>"Director Baum was born in Kansas in 1915. Her father was a Man of Letters and she quite often went with him on hunts. Unfortunately, after a rift accident, she was stranded in another dimension—one with a <em> very </em> different passage of time—and when she crossed back she was in her mid thirties and it was 1990." If Cas was wary that this kind of event might scare the Winchester's off, he would be sorely mistaken. They, in fact, talked over each other to ask more questions excitedly. </p><p>"Where was she?" </p><p>"What's a rift?" </p><p>"How did she get back?" </p><p>"Oz, a door in spacetime, and I was rescued by the MoL and my younger brother, Jack. He was 70 when I got back." An older woman in a leather jacket and tight pants answered. She beckoned them into her office and ushered them into chairs. "Hello, welcome to my facility. I've heard so much about you. Especially you, Dean." She raised a perfect eyebrow and Cas cursed her in his mind. He would have words with her later about outing his interests and Dean was gracious enough to simply smirk at him. </p><p>"Yeah, well, we're only just hearing about you," Sam snapped. "Why do you want us here? If you're gonna turn us in for the books, I still have copies and I can tell you where we sold them, other than that? Tough shit."</p><p>Baum considered Sam silently. For a while. Minutes passed and he began to look uncomfortable. As soon as he looked away she continued. "Anyway, we don't care about the books."  Cas nearly interrupted with, what he thought was, a well deserved '<em> excuse me?' </em>but thought better of it. </p><p>"But we do care about your experiences and talents. We would like to recruit you. You can work from any location, even stay on the road if you wish, doing what you've been doing but you will work for me and my direct subordinates. What do you think?" </p><p>Dean and Sam stared at each other, conversing without words. It seemed Dean had some misgivings as Sam had turned on some pretty strong puppy eyes to convince him of something. Looked like Sam had won the silent argument but Dean answered. </p><p>"We have some conditions." </p><p>"What? Are you mad, Dean?!" Sam yelped and turned to the director. "Yes, I say yes. I'd like to work from a facility and enjoy what you have to offer."</p><p>Dean glared at him as Baum nodded with a smile. "And you, Dean?" </p><p>"Well, <em> I </em>have some conditions. I will join you, stay in the same place as Sam, but I get to keep using my car and…" He grinned and turned to Cas. "...I get a date with you, Cas." Sam huffed, Dorothy let out a short bark of a laugh and Cas rolled his eyes."What?" Dean shrugged. "It's all about the perks." </p><p>"Well, Castiel? Have you finally recruited the Winchester's?"</p><p>Cas pretended to think about it for a few seconds. "When can you start?" </p><p> </p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to Toby for being such a lovely friend and beta. 💕</p></blockquote></div></div>
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